


have a tender heart

by juliabaccari



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 09:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12187446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliabaccari/pseuds/juliabaccari
Summary: Marya comforts Sonya after finding her outside of Natasha's door.





	have a tender heart

Marya finds her sleeping outside Natasha’s door.

It’s not the first time, although this time Sonya isn’t trying to prevent Natasha from leaving. She just wants to know that her friend is alright. But even after the arsenic, the regret - running to fetch Sonya in the night - Natasha doesn’t want anyone at her bedside.

So Sonya stands sentry outside of her door, waiting for any changes to her health, her mood, her mind. 

Unexpectedly, the sight of her seems to crack Marya’s heart. She forgets, sometimes, that Sonya is not very much older or more experienced in society than Natasha - and yet, the girl has so much more fortitude and wisdom. She has had to be tougher, less naive than her fair cousin. Before, it was not like Marya to have sympathy for her. But now? Sonya is so small, curled up against the wooden door, and so lost - though she did nothing to bring about this ruin, it will fall on her just as hard, if not harder.

For the first time, Marya feels as she does for the rest of her family, ferociously protective and tender-hearted.

“Sonyushka.” Marya kneels next to the sleeping girl, tenderly reaching out a hand to her shoulder. “Come now, my girl, you must wake.”

Sonya stirs, blinking slowly, lethargic. “Marya?” She asks softly; her voice is so like a child’s.

“Sonya. You’ve fallen asleep on the floor again. We must get you to a proper bed.”

“But Natasha -”

“Natasha is recovering. It will do her no good if you catch illness from sitting out here in the cold hallway, getting poor and uncomfortable rest.”

Sonya buries her face in her hands as a response, exhaustion clear in the hunch of her shoulders. Marya’s very bones ache with sympathy. The house has been in such upheaval for days, and that is not the worst of it. They have received a letter, from Prince Andrey - his departure for Moscow, and any day now, he will return. 

They have lost everything, and they must wait to see if Andrey’s kindness can restore them.

Marya, privately, does not think it will. Betrayal of the heart is a hard thing to forgive. She should know.

Gently, she squeezes Sonya’s shoulder. “Up you get, and to bed.” She scolds, but softly. There have been no raised voices in the house for some days. Even when the Countess dared to grace their doorstep - no, Marya will not think of that. She cannot let it distract her again.

She must think of her family.

“I can’t leave her.” Sonya’s voice breaks, and then, she is sobbing. Marya inhales sharply, the pain of this girl’s heartbreak lancing through her chest. Quickly, she gathers Sonya into her arms and pulls her close, almost as if she could squeeze the sorrow out of her.

“You have done so much for her.” She says, very softly. “You have done enough, Sonyushka.” 

Sonya’s arms clutch at Marya’s back as she continues crying. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to. Marya understands what Sonya needs now: to be comforted as she comforts all, to be supported as she has tirelessly supported Natasha.

“It wasn’t enough to save her from ruin.” Sonya says, finally, in a small gasping breath.

Marya pulls back just enough to look the girl dead in the eye, expression calm and serious.

“That remains to be seen. And it is not your fault.” She tells her, and finds she believes it. “And if you had not been watching her, something far worse could have happened than a failed elopement.”

“But the poison -”

Marya sighs, looks down. “Natasha makes her own choices. You are not responsible for that and I - I am sorry if the family has made you feel as though your only worth is as Natasha’s companion.”

Sonya’s lips press together, and she looks up. “Marya-”

“I know that I am not innocent of it, Sonyushka. I am sorry.”

“Marya, it - that doesn’t matter. Thank you.”

Marya takes Sonya’s hands, pulls her gently up to stand. She squeezes them once, firmly, and nods. “It is I who should thank you. I did not see what was going on with Natasha, but you did. I am...I am very proud of you, Sonya.”

Sonya’s face cracks into a smile, and it’s almost more heartbreaking than the crying. It is an expression Marya has never seen on Sonya’s face - one of a girl who has finally gotten the approval she has been so desperately seeking. It is filled with gratitude, and affection, and Marya had no idea Sonya cared so much for her own opinion.

Perhaps, she thinks, I should have treated this girl with more tenderness.

She takes her by the arm and leads her to her room, resolved to do more for Sonya in the future.


End file.
